And by "celebrated" I mean we did nothing to mark the events. It is what it is. Doug was here September 15th, and then I followed (if you want go check my update at that time, here's the blog entry).
It's been a weird two years for sure. This time of year I'm especially homesick for fall and the beauty of New England. I wallow in photos that friends are posting on Facebook of trees and stuff.
Trees and stuff here are not doing as much stuff. In fact. It is October 12th today and the weather is just what I want. It was in the mid 70s. All our windows are open. And everyone back north is whining about rain and cold.
But our colors have not changed, our September and October have been exceptionally dry, so everything is just brown.
On Monday I took my dog out and I was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and flip flops. My neighbor walked by in a parka, a winter hat, gloves, sweatpants, and her dog was wearing a coat.
"A true Bostonian" she pronounced me.
"It's not cold out," I replied.
"It is 45 degrees," she countered.
"I've been waiting for this," was my retort.
Our windows are open. a sheet is finally required for a good night's sleep. It is October. And I'm happy.
I just took a short walk up to a Pokéstop for a daily requirement, and am in the same t-shirt and shorts as the other day. Some guy drove down the street and looked at me as if I were naked.
Maryland, you are ridiculous.
Someone asked me if I was happy here and to be honest after two years, I do not think so. Things could be worse, and I shouldn't be sad but there it is. There it is.
There are a few things that make me happy. I spend time thinking about this a lot. Walking around my neighborhood tonight when I went up to the Pokéstop, I realized that while I can always hear the beltway in the distance, and sirens out on Georgia Avenue (seriously, I've never lived somewhere I can hear so many sirens) I'm in love with my sweet little quiet neighborhood.
I've gotten to know 3 of my neighbors recently. Pat and her dog Ollie are across the street and we have dog-sat for them several times. I call Ollie my fat little sausage. She is a nurse. Ollie is a 13 year old Jack Russell Terrier.
Catty Corner to us is Tony and Becky, and they had a baby in June. I've spent time with Tony more than Becky, but both of them are lovely. Tony likes jam bands and metal. And craft brewing. They helped us out with Brodie during our last trip while Geoff was out at work. We brought him back some beers and pralines from New Orleans.
And directly next door is a very old couple, only they are not a couple. Anna is the woman, and she is the caretaker for Bob. I thought they were married but she corrected me a few weeks back when they got a taxi back from the grocery.
People take walks, and a lot of people have dogs and babies or dogs or babies. Sitting out on the porch in the morning with coffee this time of year there are a lot of waves and hellos as folks walk past.
My neighborhood is delightfully quaint.
Doug continually finds things for us to do. Last weekend we went to the Dumbarton Oaks and went to the gardens. It was lovely. You had to pay admission, as opposed to the Arboretum which is free, so fewer people were there.
"Feathers in a row
Measured left to right -
How shall you chart the morning
How track the heels of night."
There is a library and museum there that are free, and we are saving that for a horrible winter's day for a visit.
We will for sure be back to this garden in the spring, and summer, and many more times, I'm sure.
But still, I am not at home here. I am planning Jess' Christmas trip here, and looking forward in two weeks to my sister coming to visit so we can attend a house concert at my friend Sara's place for Joe Pisapia.
I am not sure how long it takes to feel it is ... mine. Home. This. You know? I suppose that I should just let that longing go. Recently something happened at work that was people related and I was not happy about it, and my colleague asked me "what did you expect? Can you just let that go, that you want Boston while you are here?"
And I think I do need to let Boston go. But how do you do that?
So much a part of me, as the blog entry I link to reads,
17 years on Long Island. Up to Massachusetts in 1984, with little side jaunts to Oregon and Atlanta. Back to Massachusetts in 1992. There ever since.
That's a lot.
Anyway, I'm looking at the rest of the calendar year and it doesn't look like I'll end up back north before the end of 2019 unless (God Forbid it 1000 times) something happens with my parents.
So I need to embrace stuff about down here.
Here's something that makes me happy. By my office, there is a vacant lot. Locals to the NOMA neighborhood use it as dog park of sorts. There is one a few blocks to the east that they are supposed to use but they don't.
I stop to look at dogs in the morning or the afternoon. It sometimes makes me late for work, or late for home, but, it is worth it.
There is this one guy with a yellow lab named Samson. I do not know the dog dad's name (oh I did at one point but cannot recall) and I love to talk to him. He does politics and policy and recently quit his job. He is so young and lovely. I really like him. He's so friendly, a Texan from Austin... he likes Pokémon (He's seen my phone) and we have a lovely chat when we see each other. His dog has a game he plays with two tennis balls. You throw one, he goes and gets it, and waits for you to throw the second ball and he brings both back.
This guy knows all the dogs, and will tell me their names and stories. Since he quit his job he has been walking dogs and dog sitting for his neighbors.
I have to say he's the highlight of coming to or leaving from work. I'll try and get a picture of him and/or his dog. You have to see this DC power couple.
That's kind of a big part of my joy. I'm sitting here thinking on Samson and what's his name. How sad is it that this guy and his go are my favorite things about DC?
Maybe I need a therapist? Or maybe more time?
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